Sleeper (Rise of the Fianna Book 1)

by Amy Brock McNew

  The only thing that stopped her from rising was the waitress bringing their food. The woman took one look at them and practically tossed the plates on the table. She asked if they needed anything, then rushed away before the word no was fully out of his mouth.

  Rhys eyed the female across from his as he folded his arms over his chest. He made sure his look dared her to leave. Dared her to back down.

  He'd break her. There was no choice. They had zero time. Their people were dying. And despite his anger, she was a fire in his blood. He wanted to let her burn him from the inside out.

  It was now or never. The moment had come.

  Her game was over.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Cages

  So Rhys was an asshole. Who knew?

  Makenna gritted her teeth. She was too tired for his games. Too tired for much of anything lately. Her sleep, what little she got, was fitful and filled with crazy dreams she couldn't decipher.

  All of that, then Rhys's stonewalling and prying questions had her in a volatile mood. Everything in her wanted to fly over the table and lay his ass out. That mangy beast inside of her wanted to break free and meet his challenge, prove she could best him.

  At the same time, vicious need and blazing desire had her entire body on fire. She'd never wanted a man so much in her entire life.

  How fucked up was that?

  The rich, tempting aroma of the steak in front of her pierced her thoughts. She was starving. She glanced at Rhys and smiled that polite smile she'd learned quickly he hated. It gave her a sick joy to piss him off.

  If he was gonna be a dick, Makenna was certainly going to enjoy her nice dinner as a reward for putting up with him. If he wanted to spend his money, she'd let him. But she was cutting off the conversation. And no way was she inviting him in when he took her home.

  This was done. Over before it started. Rhys brought nothing but complications, questions she didn't want to answer, and feelings she didn't understand. He brought out things in her she'd fought her whole life to stuff down and ignore.

  Her body screamed, and her heart wrenched in her chest at the decision. But she couldn't let him break the control she'd spent years building. He had the potential to destroy the nice quiet life she'd constructed. Makenna couldn't have that. The mysterious man currently seething in front of her was nothing but trouble. She didn't need trouble. She needed peace. Her soul revolted, as did the beast within. Tough shit. That beast would just have to shut up and sit.

  She was a freak and she accepted that, even though she didn't know why. Rhys acted like he may have answers, but she didn't want them. She wanted her life back. Her normal, safe, quiet life.

  Makenna’s heart breaking for reasons she couldn’t figure out, she smiled until her cheeks hurt. “Look, I don't want to fight with you.” She coughed at the lie. “Let's just eat this nice supper and then you can take me home.” She speared a potato with her fork and shoved it in her mouth.

  Rhys picked up his fork and knife and nearly sawed through the plate cutting his steak. “This isn't over.”

  “Oh, the conversation is definitely over, and so is whatever this mess is.” She gestured between them with her knife, then tore into her own plate again.

  He growled low. She was almost getting used to his growling at her. Well, now she wouldn't have to worry about it. She shoved away the ache in her soul.

  “We'll never be over, Kenna. This is just the beginning.” He gulped down an entire glass of wine, though how he did it with his jaw so hard and tight, she'd never know. “You will tell me what I want to know.” His glare softened a little. “And I'll tell you everything you want to know.” Rhys sighed, setting his glass down and holding her gaze. “You can trust me, Kenna. You may not know it yet, but I'm the one being in the world you can trust completely. With your life.” He added the last part quietly.

  Strange choice of words. He was the one being she could trust? She swallowed hard, then polished off her own wine. Her soul ached to trust him, trust the answers her heart knew he had. Somewhere deep, she knew she could. But her mind wouldn't let her.

  Makenna couldn't trust anyone.

  “That's not going to happen.” Her voice was soft and sad. She watched as pain flickered in his stare. “I don't trust anyone but myself. I'm the only one I can count on. There's nothing you can say or do to change that. I'm sorry.”

  She really was.

  She winced as invisible claws sliced into her from the inside. What felt like two sets of claws. Her breath caught. Seriously, claws? What the hell? She really was going crazy. All the more reason to get away from Rhys. She felt as if at any moment that thing, or things, inside of her would tear free of their cages and rain destruction on anyone in her vicinity.

  Makenna forced words out. “Let's just drop it and finish our dinner.” Dropping her head, she forked food into her mouth, though her appetite had disappeared thanks to the pain ravaging her insides. Pain that had her muscles tensing and sweat popping out down her back.

  Rhys took her hand, stilling her movement. Every muscle she owned tensed, readying for a fight.

  He rubbed the pulse at her wrist. “Shh. It's okay. You're in control. Just breathe and it'll pass. Look at me, Kenna.”

  Breathe and it'll pass. How could he know? She met his stare. Her brow furrowed as her mind rifled through anything he’d said, any clue he’d given.

  “What?” she whispered, unable to form more words. The odd humming she'd heard before started in again.

  “It's okay,” he repeated as he continued to caress her wrist. “Just focus on me. On my eyes.” As she did, they changed, just like they had the other night. Glowing, wolf like. Sharp and intense.

  Her vision flickered. Sharpened. Makenna saw colors she'd never seen before, didn't know existed. The world came alive in a way she'd never known. A gasp escaped. She tried to jerk her hand away, needing to run.

  What was he doing to her?

  “Kenna.” His voice softened further, soothing and calling to whatever was inside of her. The beasts stopped clawing and perked up to listen. “You're fine. It's going to be all right. I promise.” Concern lit his eyes that had returned to normal.

  Makenna sucked in a breath, utterly blindsided but willing to take any comfort she could get at the moment. She closed her eyes. Maybe if she didn't see the difference, it wouldn't scare her so bad. Then again, she wasn't really scared. Lost. Confused. But not scared. Something in the experience had been familiar. She chose not to dive into that and instead focused on calming her breathing now that the tearing in her gut had stopped.

  When she opened her eyes, the world had returned to normal. Everything was different, though. She lifted her eyes to Rhys's. She had to find out who this man was and what he knew about her. Those answers that had frightened her a few minutes ago? She desperately yearned for them now.

  The moment had changed it all.

  His mouth turned in a sympathetic smile even as he gestured to the server for the check. He pointed at her plate, indicating they'd need a box. Then he took her other wrist, massaging it as well.

  “Is that the first time that's happened?” he asked quietly.

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  Understanding and what she thought might be acceptance flickered in his eyes. He sighed, and it sounded like he released eon’s worth of stress. The rigidness deserted his shoulders. “We'll talk about this when we get you home.”

  Makenna withdrew her hands and gave her plate to the waitress, who slid her leftovers in a box. The thought of eating the delicious steak turned her stomach. She remained silent as Rhys took care of the bill and led her from the restaurant with a warm hand on the back of her neck.

  Silence stretched as they mounted the bike, and she again wrapped herself around him. Whereas before she'd simply been aroused by the contact, now there was an undercurrent, an ache that hadn't been there before. A new awareness.

  The world looked different as it flashed by. Brighter, yet darke
r at the same time. The lights seemed harsher, glaring. Yet a darkness creeped around the edges. Not physical. Something intangible she couldn’t put her finger on. An omen. She closed her eyes and leaned her head onto his shoulder. One hand left the handle bars and rested over hers on his stomach. She let his warmth seep into her, felt herself relaxing into it. Something inside her settled, calmer than it had ever been.

  The calm lasted until they rounded a corner down the quiet, empty street leading to her apartment. The back of her neck prickled, and her entire system came alive with electricity. The desire to fight, to spill blood, hit her so hard and fast it forced the air from her lungs. Rhys's body tightened, muscles rippling under her hands.

  He pulled those hands off of him and climbed off the bike. “Kenna, I need you to go upstairs and lock your door. I'll be there in a few minutes.” He pulled her from the bike and turned her toward the door.

  Why was he so tense? Was he somehow feeling what she was?

  Makenna stood with her back to him, drawing in breath and centering herself. The need to fight grew, consuming her. Her muscles tightened, but then released. Her heart rate lowered, along with her chin. Then an odd calm, a kind of rightness settled over her. Like this was a moment she’d waited for all her life. She turned to tell him she was fine and take his hand to go upstairs but froze before she could speak.

  Two large men stood on the other side of the bike. Wait, one of them was a woman. Nearly her own size, which was unusual. They both wore dark clothes and held what appeared to be hunting knives. She couldn't see their expressions in the darkness, thanks to the street light above being burnt out. What she could see were glowing eyes, similar to the way Rhys's had shimmered at the restaurant.

  Rhys stood in front of her, facing the would-be attackers. Only, he wasn't empty handed either. And he wasn't the Rhys she thought she knew. He looked even larger than normal, if that was possible. Stronger. A dark orange glow wavered around him. A tension rode the breeze that hadn't been there before.

  What stood before her was a warrior, and her blood answered the call echoing from him.

  “Kenna, go upstairs.” He pushed the order through clenched teeth.

  “No.”

  Her world narrowed to the intruders as she took what felt like her place at his side. A feeling she'd dissect later.

  He growled at her. Again. “Woman, for once listen to me. I can handle this.” If she wasn't mistaken, an edge of fear colored his command.

  “I'm not a defenseless little woman. I can handle myself.” She slid her hand into her boot, an action that had Rhys tilting his head her way with a raised brow. She withdrew the knife she never left home without. “Trust me, I can even the odds.”

  Rhys faced off with their would-be attackers. “Fine. But stick close to me.” There wasn't time to argue, seeing as how the two assailants were easing toward them.

  With a primal battle yell, Rhys cleared the bike in one smooth leap and plowed into their opponents, taking them both to the ground. He punched the woman and her head flew back, smacking into the pavement. Then he turned his attention to the man who was quickly getting his feet back under him.

  Years of training kicked in as Makenna followed him over the bike, landing right in front of the woman who'd somehow shaken off the blow and made it to her feet in a matter of seconds. Interesting. But there was no time to ponder the situation. A flicker of recognition and a twinge of fear flashed on the woman's face before she came at Makenna full bore, swinging her knife with a shrill yell.

  Makenna whirled to the side, kicking out and impacting the woman's legs. The woman flailed forward but caught her balance quicker than a cat. Makenna growled as she lunged, swiping her blade across the woman's back. The swipe was deep enough to tear through her shirt and bring a ripple of blood to the surface. Makenna grinned.

  Grunts, flesh hitting flesh, and the sound of bones breaking reached her ears from the men fighting behind her. She instinctively knew Rhys could handle himself, so she stayed focused on her own opponent.

  The woman flipped the knife in her hand, then smiled. “You missed. No matter. I'll be well rewarded for being the one to take your head.” Before Makenna could decipher the nonsense from the woman's mouth, she was on Makenna.

  Makenna raised her arm to block and took a jagged cut to her forearm. But there was no pain. Only adrenaline and a strange fire flooding her veins.

  Blood. She could taste it.

  She wanted more.

  As the woman whirled, fully intending on dragging her blade through Makenna's throat, Makenna lashed out. This time she caught the woman in the gut, from below her ribs to her belly button. The woman hopped back, kicking Makenna in the knee. Her leg buckled, but she stayed on her feet.

  Makenna raised the same leg, throwing a roundhouse aimed for the woman's head. Her opponent caught her foot, but obviously didn't know of Makenna's training. Makenna used the caught foot as leverage and flipped around, bringing the opposite leg up and slamming her foot into the side of the woman's face. Her head flew to the side, spit and blood spraying.

  The woman dropped low and sliced across Makenna's thigh. The wound split open, blood pouring into Makenna's boot. Now that one hurt. Makenna bared her teeth, refusing to give in to the pain. The woman stayed low and swung up, attempting to sever Makenna's femoral artery.

  Well shit.

  Makenna heard the audible snap as a switch flipped in her brain. A quick glance at the brutal shot Rhys blocked coming for his chest and Makenna knew. These people clearly intended to kill them. She'd do what she had to.

  This bitch had to die. No mercy.

  Her mind cleared as the woman slowly rose to her feet.

  All thought ceased. Makenna's vision focused on her opponent and nothing else. A fueling rage infused her system.

  The woman feinted to the left, then back right, but Makenna was ready. She met her there, driving her knife into the woman's side, just between the ribs. She heard the whoosh of the punctured lung as she twisted the blade. But when she pulled it out, the woman didn't fall. She threw a vicious back fist that caught Makenna on the temple, firing sparks behind her eyes and sending nausea to her gut.

  As she staggered, the woman came at her full force with a flurry of punches, stabs, swipes, and kicks. Makenna blocked most, using everything she had to stay on her feet and prevent the worst of the damage. Even still, her dress was torn to bits, hanging off her in tatters. Blood ran freely from multiple cuts, weakening her bit by bit.

  But she fought on.

  Never had she been in such a brutal fight. The woman really was determined to kill her. Twice, Makenna had almost taken a blade to the jugular. Her head spun, and in a moment of reprieve, her eyes searched out Rhys. He was on top of his opponent, his knife buried in the man's neck. He shoved to one side, and as he pulled the blade back to the other, Makenna opened her mouth to yell at him to stop.

  What were they, animals? Monsters?

  Her words never made it out. A sharp pain in her gut had her hands coming up and her head tilting down to look. The woman had embedded her knife in Makenna's abdomen. Shock rippled through her, then numbness, then fire. Her chin snapped up as she pulled the blade out and yanked it from her opponent's hands.

  With a fury she'd never known burning her insides, a lust for inflicting pain, a desire to see her opponent in pieces that would've shaken her if she was about herself, she flew at the woman, taking her to the ground.

  The sound of chains breaking, of cages smashed to bits, sounded in her mind as Makenna and her opponent impacted the ground with a rattling crash.

  Makenna barely registered the shock and defeat in the eyes staring back at her as she locked her thighs around the woman's chest. Makenna reared back, lifting her knife. Without pause, without breath, no other thought than ending her opponent, Makenna swung the knife. One clean slice across the neck. The blade scraped the ground out the other side, the sound grating in Makenna's ears and pulling a satisfied growl from he
r chest.

  The woman's head rolled free, spinning into a puddle with a splash.

  A satisfaction like no other coursed through her veins. She let out a yell—more of a howl—and lifted her head to the moon. Intense pleasure rushed over her, feeding a craving for more.

  A craving to feel another enemy break under her hands.

  Then she turned her head. Like a wet towel on a fire, her pleasure hissed out, leaving her in a rush as reality crashed back with a vengeance.

  Sound ceased.

  Light faded to a vignette around the twirling head as it sent water flying.

  The smells of blood and death wafted around Makenna, stinging her nostrils.

  The euphoria of victory faded as the metallic taste in her mouth turned to ash. Sickness swirled in her gut. Pain flooded in over the broken levee. Dizziness swamped her.

  She fell to the side and off the headless body. Knees scraping pavement, she turned to find Rhys rushing toward her, his handsome face pale and drawn tight. She followed his gaze to her abdomen to see blood flowing freely, streaming down her folded legs and pooling beneath her. A flick of her eyes brought her blurry stare back to the head, which had stopped spinning and sat in the water, sightless eyes and open mouth calling to the moon.

  Oh God. She'd killed.

  She'd cut off someone's head.

  How had she done that? Why?

  She wasn't just a freak of nature, she was a monster. Someone people whispered scary stories about in the dark of night around campfires.

  A rabid dog who should be put down.

  “Kenna, mo bhanrigh, are you─?”

  She didn't hear the rest of what he said. Her world blasted into overload, then collapsed in on itself. As Rhys slid to his knees, she fell into his arms and into the darkness waiting for her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Die Trying

  Rhys looked down at the limp, brave woman in his arms.

  She'd done it. She'd let herself free and taken out her enemy like she'd been doing it for years. Then she'd broken down at the realization, blood loss and remorse taking her under.